The Last Great Time War
by TimrousBeastie
Summary: He opened the TARDIS doors, hands shaking, knowing that this would be the last time he ever saw Gallifrey. The last time he would ever see his home.'An explanation of the famous Time War that the 9th Dr is so angsty about.Explains regeneration.not oneshot
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Right, now before we begin, I'd like to just get a few things straight with you all if you don't mind. Yes, i know that this has been done (very) recently, and I myself saw that someone had done it and thought 'Damn, they beat me to it.' I am purposefully not reading it so my own imagination is not swayed by their story... So hopefully they will be very different (there's no master in mine for starters apart from a brief mention at the beginning).**

**Anyway, there were So many reasons I could think to do this story - the main one being that the idea refused to drop until i began typing. But there were also reasons not to do this. For starters, this is purely my imagination - I have no idea what happened in the Timewar, and I'm sure RTD has a better grasp of it than myself. Also, it's quite a demanding story - and I'm not entirely sure that I'm up to it and am not sure if i could do it justice :S So please, bear that in mind. Another thing - I am practically new to Doctor who; having only watched the series since Eccleston began. So please please forgive me if any of my information is innacurate - I did try to do some research on it, but I'm sure some of it is wrong.**

**Characters: Mostly 8th Doctor, with 9th at the end. Romana. Dalek emperor. Numerous Timelords. etc**

**Pairings: (Very very very) slight 8/Grace at the beginning; but only as a recap of the movie.**

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**Chapter 1**

"Come with me?" the Doctor said, eyes glittering with promised dreams.

"You come with me!" Grace laughed.

"Me come with you?" he half thought she was joking, and in a way, she was – she didn't expect him to give up his life of adventure for one of mundane daily routine… But she also knew that she didn't have a part in that life. One adventure was great, but to have one everyday… She didn't think she could do it…

"It's tempting," he watched the fireworks; his voice was vague and dazed – as though he was thinking of something else. His eyes were filled with nostalgia.

"I'm gonna miss you," she said, trying to sound light-hearted. She will miss him. A lot. All the things they've shared.

"How can you miss me?" he beamed, "I'm easy to find – I'm the guy with two hearts remember?"

"That's… Not what I meant," there was a hint of sadness in her voice as she gazed at him.

Without really thinking, he leant forwards and they kissed beneath the fireworks in the night sky. But, far too early, he pulled away. He hated goodbyes. Always had done. Always would do.

And so they parted, and went their separate ways. Both full of regret, but knowing they made the right choice. They each had to live their separate lives…

He gave her one last look – one final goodbye – before stepping out of her life.

* * *

The Doctor closed the doors of the TARDIS – his beloved ship – behind him, leaning heavily against them and sighing. He slowly made his way to the controls; his tongue running across his upper lip – he could still just about taste Grace on him. He sighed once again at her refusal to travel with him, and wondered what to do now.

The master had been destroyed – the Eye of Harmony had seen to that – and finally, he was rid of his arch nemesis.

He felt sad in a way – as much as he disliked the Master, he still felt compassion for him. He was, after all, a fellow Timelord. And, despite their many difference, they did have one considerably large similarity – they were both outcasts. Both had been rejected by their home… The Doctor couldn't help but feel a certain pull towards someone who shared something like that with him.

As the TARDIS dematerialized, a wave of nostalgia overwhelmed him, and he wished, more than anything, that he could go back to his planet. Go back and see his people… He wished he could pretend he'd never been banished. Wished he could _imagine_ being welcomed back with open arms as they beamed and accepted him.

He shook his head in an attempt to rid the feeling of homesickness away. He patted his ship fondly, a fake grin hiding his sadness.

"Ah well old friend. No use wallowing in self pity now is there?" He twiddled with a few levers before asking, "How are you feeling?"

A series of beeps and whirs informed him, to his amusement, that actually she would rather like a holiday.

He laughed, "Well I don't know… You aren't exactly known for your accurate landings are you? I'm sure if we aimed for a lovely relaxing beach in Retsoyrel, we'd probably overshoot it by a couple of light-years."

He was rewarded with a short sharp electric shock from the console, accompanied by a few harsh beeps.

"YOW!" he leapt in the air, snatching his hand away and sucking his finger. "Aww, c'mon, you know I was joking…"

She refused to reply; ignoring his pouts.

Suddenly, one of the monitors crackled into life, ending their moment of light-heartedness. The Doctor scrambled over to see a face he never thought he'd see again.

"Romana," he breathed in wonder at her image, fuzzy and grainy on the screen.

"Doctor," she inclined her head in greeting.

"I thought I'd never see you again! How:-"

"A lot has happened since our travels together Doctor, she interrupted smiling.

"But how are you here?" he asked.

"That story is one to be saved for a later date, but right now I need your help," her smile disappeared to be replaced by a grave look. "You must come back to Gallifrey. The Daleks have massed together and are, as we speak, enclosing in on us."

The Doctor's earlier happiness disappeared into shock and anger. "The Daleks," he almost hissed.

Romana nodded, sadness clouding her features. "We are gathering our forces – all of Gallifrey – to help defend the planet, but…" she hesitated before continuing; allowing a note of panic to enter her voice. "Doctor… There's so many. So many more than anyone anticipated. We fear that the emperor has called together every Dalek in existence to launch their attack on us… This will be the greatest Time war ever fought… And we need everyone's help… Please Doctor. I don't know if we can survive this," she pleaded.

"I'm coming," he replied, face dark as he set the coordinates. "I'm coming Romana."

"Thank you," she whispered before turning off the monitor.

* * *

Moments later, he materialized, for the first time in decades, on Gallifrey. On his home. As he opened the door, tears filled his eyes as he gazed at everything he hadn't seen for so long. The gentle breeze ruffled the lush red grass and gently flurried through the trees; causing a few loose silver leaves to waft gently down, reflecting the sunlight from the two suns.

He breathed in deeply, taking in the unique smell of his home. He closed his eyes in bliss; letting the soft sunlight graze his features. It had been so long… Too long.

He reluctantly turned away to face the enormous building to his right. He was here for a purpose.

He strode the hundred metres to the door, and was surprised to find no one guarding the entrance. Bewildered, he eased open the glass door and went inside.

He had almost forgotten what the Gallifreyan embassy looked like. Forgotten the obsession with white. There was no colour anywhere. Everything – the walls, ceiling, desks, chairs – was white. As he walked over to the glass-domed lift, his feet silently padded across the plush white carpet.

The lift doors slid open with a barely audible hiss, and he stepped inside.

"Name?" an electronic voice from the ceiling asked.

"Uhm. The Doctor?" he said hesitantly – the last time he'd done this (some thirty years ago) his access had been denied.

The machine processed the information slowly, and the Doctor half expected to be ejected from the premises. But, half a minute later, to his surprise, the metallic voice spoke up again, unable to find fault. "Access granted." And the lift began to move. "Transporting Doctor to Floor 506."

Less than a minute later, the doors whirred open once again, and he strode into the white corridor. There was a single iron door in front of him with the word 'STRONGHOLD' bolted onto it and no visible way of opening it. As he approached it, several things happened at once;

A bio scanner confirmed he was a Gallifreyan, while another scanner scanned his retinas. A small metal panel in the wall next to the door buzzed on; blue lights winking at him.

He placed his left palm over the panel and watched as the light ran over his unique finger prints, giving him a strange tingling sensation in the process.

Finally, the door opened; a mechanical voice informing the occupants of the room that 'Species - Timelord; code – 153265alpha; Name - The Doctor" had just entered.

* * *

He stepped into the room, and was taken aback at the contrast to the rest of the building. Grey and bronze metal plates lined the walls, without a hint of white anywhere. Computers sat blinking and whirring away. And a large metal table sat at the centre. Obviously this room was designed with one purpose and one purpose only – protection.

So this was where everyone was.

Upon his entrance, everyone had jerked their heads up to see who it was, falling silent. Many, he noticed, watched him with contempt and, in some cases, outright distaste. But a few, he was glad to note, beamed and waved at him.

Romana stepped forwards out of the throng, and approached him smiling. "Doctor. Thank Rassilon."

He grinned back, "hello Romana. It's been a long time."

They were both awkward – should they shake hands? The Doctor scratched the nape of his neck, embarrassed. He had no clue what was 'appropriate' in this situation – especially with a load of haughty Timelords surrounding him.

They contented with shaking hands vigorously until neither could bear it much longer, and they embraced happily.

"I've missed you so much!" she whispered into his shoulder.

"I know," he replied softly. "So have I."

They parted when someone coughed pointedly. A man stepped out, and was quickly introduced as Balkonefarius – commanding general and in charge of the military. More fellow Timelords were introduced in turn before they all took a place around the table.

"As I'm sure you're aware," Romana began. "Gallifrey is in the beginnings of a crisis. The Dalek emperor has declared war on our people, and his forces have already begun their advance. I am told that they will be here before nightfall… This gives us roughly four hours to make a decision."

And so began the lengthy debate…

* * *

The Doctor hated politics, and just listened to various military advisors arguing over their options. He did not contribute – he was here only to fight for and protect Gallifrey; not to make decisions that would have an impact on its inhabitants. After at least half an hour of heated argument, it was decided that everyone – both Timelord and non-Timelord – who wished to fight, would be drafted into the army. At least one Timelord would be in charge of a battalion, and responsible for every soldier in it.

Romana turned to Balkonefarius, telling him to inform all the generals of what was happening, and to instruct soldiers to go to all the cities and search for willing volunteers.

She looked solemnly around the table at each individual before addressing them all. "This will be the greatest struggle of our lives. The outcome of this war will dictate the fate of Gallifrey. Lives will be lost, but we must not hesitate. Gallifrey must be saved." She dismissed them before speaking quietly to the Doctor, "I must speak to you quickly."

He nodded as she led him to a small corner of the room.

"I have put you in charge of one of the Arcadian battalions Doctor." He tried to interrupt, but was cut off. "I know you haven't had any official training, but I've seen what you do… You have more experience than most of my generals. You understand the ways of combat more than any of them."

"Ok," he breathed in agreement. "Where will you be?" he inquired.

"I will be leading one of my own battalions on the other side of the city."

"What!" he cried out, shocked. "But. You can't!"

Her eyes flashed dangerously, "do not tell me what I can and cannot do Doctor. I am not a helpless female to run away at the first sight of a threat. I thought we established that decades ago."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he said gruffly. "You're our _leader_. What happens if you're killed? We need you safe here."

"And what happened when the soldiers see their _leader_ cowering behind walls of protection? What hope will they have left then?"

He slammed a fist on the wall in aggravation, hating the fact that she was right.

"Where did you park your TARDIS?" she asked, startling him with the subject change.

"Huh? Outside. Next to the embassy."

"Move it," she instructed him. "Move it to this room – it'll be a lot safer here in the stronghold. And it may be helpful in an emergency."

"Ok," he nodded, turning to go.

"Oh and Doctor?" she called after him, a hint of teasing in her voice. "When you land, try to do so in the right century – it'd be much more helpful!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, unable to hide a small smile.

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**A/N: I do love reviews :D hinthint**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for the wait to anyone who's actually reading this (meh). But this is quite a long chapter to make up for it. I'm also in the middle of writing the next chapter, so that _may_ be posted soon... Depending if this chapter actually gets more than 2 reviews...Hmpf. But hey, anyone who's reading, I hope you're enjoying it, and don't get too bored by it...**

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****hapter 2**

About two hours later, after having been instructed to prepare for battle, the Doctor was in the Weaponry & Armoury Room – a few miles from Arcadia. As he gazed around the large room, he took in the hundred different faces surrounding him, all with the same goal; to fight for Gallifrey, no matter what the cost. And it wasn't just limited to men – there were just as many women in the room, fitting carious pieces of armour on, and slinging guns onto their hips. Neither did all the faces belong to Timelords – scores of different Gallifreyan species (and not all of them humanoid) were clamouring for an assorted collection of weapons. As the Doctor looked around, he knew that there were other rooms identical to this one all over the planet, where billions of Gallifreyans were willing to risk their lives to save their homeland.

"Sorry," a gruff apology came from a blue-furred bear-like creature, at least double the Doctor's height, as he knocked past the Timelord to reach for a bronze helmet.

The Doctor didn't bother with the armour – he knew that if a Dalek was going to kill you, you were going to die – and armour would not be any protection. But if these creatures wanted to feel safe underneath their metal shields, the Doctor was not going to stop them.

He rocked back and forth on his heels. That was another thing – armour slowed down your reflexes considerably and made it much harder to run. In fact, the Doctor was sure that armour caused just as many deaths as it prevented.

He went over to a rack of guns, running his fingers down a smallish silvery one. He picked it up, weighing it in his right hand. He checked all the functions and settings – ever since the first Time war, all guns and artillery had been fitted with anti-forcefield blasts. This meant that the forcefield that surrounded a Dalek and acted as its armour would be rendered useless, and allow the attacker to destroy the creature beneath.

The Doctor grinned humourlessly to himself – a tight-lipped smile, void of any emotion – as he flicked the safety off.

"Doctor," there was a tap on his shoulder and he came face to face with Balkonefarius. "It's time. We should get going."

The Doctor nodded silently and followed him out as Balkonefarius talked. "Now you will be on the southern side of Arcadia. Romana is leading the Northern troops, I am in charge of the Western side, and another General will be leading the Eastern troops."

The Doctor nodded once more.

"We all came to the conclusion that because Arcadia is the capital, the Daleks will concentrate most of their forces here – so we're putting in the most protection on Arcadia's defences."

"What of the civilians?" the Doctor asked, concerned.

"They are being evacuated by air to various secure underground and underwater bunkers… Now, anymore questions?"

"How long?"

Balkonefarius shook his head, "It is impossible to say – I cannot predict. But we have little time left."

* * *

So they made their way to the airstrip, where two small streamlined glass pods waited for them. Balkonefarius pressed a button on the side of one, sliding open the door and slipping into the waiting seat.

"Good luck Doctor," he said before the door closed. His pod rose gracefully into the air, and arced over the sky, speeding west.

The Doctor reached a hand out and pressed the button on the side of his own pod. He stooped slightly so as to slide in easier as the pilot greeted him.

"South is it sir?"

"Yes," he replied as the door shut and they lifted off, before spiralling into the sky; sunlight glinting off the glass and dazzling any onlookers.

"What's your name?" he asked the pilot.

"Allestroquan," his pilot laughed nervously, "but I'm mostly called 'Al'."

"Ah, ok then – Al – how long have you been flying?"

"You know, it's funny you should ask – I was just marvelling at it myself. At my last count, it was about… ten minutes."

The Doctor blanched. "_What_?!"

Al burst out laughing, "Nah, I'm just kidding… just under 80 years, give or take."

The Doctor sighed in relief, "so you have quite a bit of experience then."

"Yep, you could say that. I was even in the last Time War."

"Oh really?" the Doctor asked, intrigued. "And what is it like; flying into battle?"

"One of the most exhilarating experiences of my life," he was honest. "I mean.. I was absolutely terrified as well, but still.."

"Mmm," the Doctor trailed off, thinking about his own experiences in the last war. He imaged that a pilot flying into battle and partaking in dog-fights must've felt far more heroic than being a soldier on foot, marching through marshland and trying not to step on landmines…

He was so lost in thought, that he didn't notice the pod slow down and begin its descent. Indeed, he didn't even notice they'd landed until Al informed him, "We're here," and jolted him out of his memories.

"Oh… Thanks Al," he opened the door, and hopped down onto the concrete landing platform. "Stay safe," he called out before the door shut. Al saluted before taking off and sweeping back into the sky.

"Sir?" a voice behind him called.

He turned around as an orange-skinned humanoid jogged over to him. "Are you the Doctor?" it asked as it grasped his hand in greeting.

"Yes…" came the Doctor's reply. "And you are?"

"Voraynil. I'm your second in command," Voraynil grinned.

"Oh, Ok," the Doctor said dumbly as he was left down off the platform and onto a dirt trail.

"The soldiers are all waiting up there," Voraynil pointed to the small hill in front of them, and the Doctor could just make out a large group of shapes silhouetted against one of the rapidly descending suns. He had to admit it was probably the best place to launch an attack from. When the Daleks came, the hill would be an effective barrier in between them and Arcadia, and a good vantage-point for the soldiers.

* * *

They made their way up the hill as Voraynil explained the plan. "Some of the soldiers havn't arrived – the airships are still transporting a lot of them."

"I see. Will they be here in time?"

"Probably. We've been told we have a while… enough time to get prepared and ready for battle at least."

They reached the group of assembled soldiers, who rose upon their arrival, saluting. There were only a hundred or so, the Doctor noticed with concern. If the Daleks were concentrating on breaking through to Arcadia, then a hundred soldiers wouldn't be enough.

Voraynil noticed his expression. "More are coming. Don't worry Doctor."

"How many more?"

"Within the next hour? Well, five airships are due to arrive, with around…. Oh… a hundred soldier in each.

"So around 500 soldiers more.." the Doctor trailed off, calculating the numbers, knowing that it still wasn't enough. He voiced his opinion to Voraynil.

"I know," he agreed, "but we'll just have to fight our damned hardest."

But the Doctor was too busy trying to maximize their chances of survival to hear him.

"Right," he turned to the scattered crowd. "Everyone, come over here," he called out. Gradually the soldiers gathered around him, and he instructed them all in what to do, directing them over to stand in formation. They were soon all standing in silence in blocks of twenty, spread out across the crest of the hill.

Just then, the Doctor heard a quiet buzz behind, and turned to see the five airships on the horizon. They landed three minutes later on the landing platform in turn; the soldiers leaping out and jogging up the hill in organised lines to the Doctor. As they reached him, the Doctor ordered them into yet _more_ blocks; making sure they weren't too far down the hill – he didn't want to lose such a good advantage.

"You," he pointed at one of the soldiers passing. Said soldier peeled off from the line and went over to the Doctor. "Yes sir?" she spoke as the Doctor looked at her – realising that she was barely an adult – she looked around eighteen years old. The Doctor shook his head to rid the though – this was a war, and they needed all the help they could get.

"I need you to organise a barricade. Get that group to help you, he gestured to the group of soldiers nearest.

She nodded. "Yes sir."

Half an hour later, the barricade had been erected, using dead wood and bracken from the forest. The Doctor had to marvel at its ingenuity – it was huge, and fringed the hill. Small gaps had been left for the soldiers to fire through. The Doctor organised all the soldiers behind the barricade; some on the ground, kneeling, with guns pointed through the gaps, while others had managed to climb up and were clinging to the top with their weapons resting on top of the wood.

* * *

By this time, the sun had sunk so low, only the tip was visible over the skyline; the thick forest trees in front, obscuring most of the light. It was only a matter of time before the fighting began…

The Doctor had to admit there was something about this waiting that he both loved and hated at once. He hated fighting, and general violence, but there was something about this that filled him with adrenaline. It coursed through his veins; made his nerves tingle with excitement; his muscles flex.

There was a crackle of static from the radio clipped to his belt before Romana's voice came through.

"Doctor? Are you there? Over"

He lifted the receiver. "Yes, I'm here. Over"

"Doctor they're coming. They should be entering the atmosphere in less than two minutes. Is everything ready? Everyone there? Over."

"Everything's fine.. But I don't think there'll be enough sol:-"

"Fine," she interrupted. "I know we'll be heavily outnumbered, but what can we do?" She sounded helpless. "We've just got to fight. Do everything you can to destroy them Doctor… over."

"Understood. And, Romana?" he hesitated. "My TARDIS… Are you sure she's save? Over"

"Doctor, trust me, the stronghold is the most secure room on the planet."

"Ok," he let out a sigh of relief.

"Over and out."

And there was silence, save for the soft sound of the Gallifreyan insects.

As soon as the radio had crackled into life, the soldiers had all stopped their idle chatter and turned to strain their ears to listen. The Doctor turned to the assembled soldiers – their eyes shining up at him – and thank Rassilon that they were too far away to hear his conversation.

He walked to the front of the crowd and addressed them all with a booming voice. "The time is upon us my friends. They will be entering the atmosphere in moments." He saw their eyes; saw their anticipation; the eagerness; the excitement; the fear.

He knew he would never see most of them again, and made himself continue. "I cannot promise you glory. I cannot promise you pity. This is a war, and I cannot promise that you will live – or that I will live. But this is not about you. Nor I." his voice grew as he roared over the groups. "This is for our future generations! For our children! For **Gallifrey**!"

And on his last words, as the soldiers shouted as one in agreement; as they stamped their boots and roared their approval, the ground rumbled and shook beneath them, and a flash lit up the pitch black landscape as the Daleks entered the atmosphere…

The Doctor muttered to himself under the soldiers' cacophony and the Dalek fleet, "And so the way begins…" But his words were lost; carried by the wind and passed on through the trees of the deep woods.

It only took a few moments before the cry came echoing across the soldiers; "They're here! They're coming!" And as one, the group looked up, and dark shapes could just be made through the sky. Seconds later, and the dark shapes of the Dalek ships loomed into view. As they neared, the dull rumbling of the engines grew to a deafening roar, making the ground tremble beneath the feet of the soldiers.

The Dalek fleet landed within the protection of the forest, and soon the noise of the engines subsided.

Now there was no noise... No murmur of the soldiers' voices… No one dared to breathe… Even the insects had stopped their cries.

They all tensed behind the barricade, eyes squinting at the line of trees for any sign of movement. The Doctor looked across them and knew that some of them were about to snap. "Steady men," he called. It was _essential_ that they waited until the opportune moment – they had to wait for the Daleks to attack them and get near enough for the shots to hit. Then the soldiers would still be protected by the barricade.

* * *

Then he saw it – a glint of gold, reflecting the light of the moon.

"DALEK!" a shout rose up from the soldiers.

"Steady!" he bellowed.

The Daleks were approaching in steady formation…

They stopped before the foot of the hill and the two armies regarded one another. The red Dalek at the front lifted its eyestalk to focus on the Doctor. The Doctor didn't blink, and fixed it with his own stare. He smiled coldly down at it; his eyes like steel.

The Dalek broke eye contact and turned to face its army. "Charge," it growled in its metallic voice. And as one, they began to ascend the hill.

"Steady," the Doctor repeated before… "FIRE!" he screamed with his men as they began their assault, amongst the Dalek shrieks of 'exterminate!'

The shots rained down upon the Daleks, who cried out with pathetic voices when they were hit, leaving a small mound of dust as a sign of what once existed…

The first Gallifreyan casualty came when one of the Dalek's beams struck the barricade, and rebounded to hit one of the soldiers perched on the top – his head peering over.

With a scream and a burst of green light, he was thrown backwards; his body crumpling to the ground.

And still the assault went on. But for every Dalek that was killed, it took the soldiers' lives – and yet another Dalek would take its place.

"This is pointless," the Doctor whispered to himself in realisation.

The Daleks were slowly gaining ground and getting nearer and nearer to the barricade.

A beam shot though one of the holes near the Doctor, striking the soldier next to him – who went down without a sound. The Doctor gave a yell of hopeless rage, and began firing frenziedly back out at them.

All sense of time was lost. He had no idea how long they'd been fighting. Had no idea how Romana and the others were doing. He didn't know how many of his own army he'd lost, and was too scared to turn around and see. All he knew, was that he was exhausted. He could no longer hear anything besides the beats of his hearts – he couldn't even hear the blasts of his gun, or the screams and yells issuing from his mouth.

And still thousands of Daleks were getting nearer…

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see Voraynil, covered in dirt and cuts.

"Doctor!" he yelled over the sounds of the fighting. "There are barely a hundred of us left. We cannot win this battle – we must retreat."

"NO!" he shouted. "We cannot surrender!"

"Then you're sentencing all these soldiers to death!"

"That's there _job_!" the Doctor's eyes were wild – filled with pure hatred of the Daleks.

Voraynil screamed right back. "It's their job to _fight_ – not to die! We are achieving _nothing_ here. We must retreat to the city and plan a different tactic."

"Fine," he spat bitterly. "Spread the message – we retreat. No soldier is to be left behind."

"And what of the dead?"

Sadness clouded the Doctor's features for a moment before he answered. "We have no means of carrying them. The bodies stay…"

Voraynil nodded before sprinting to the remaining soldiers.

The Doctor took the opportunity to look at his surroundings. Bodies littered the ground where the Dalek beams had managed to penetrate the barricade. Some had peaceful expressions; but most had faces twisted with pain.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor bowed his head in respect. "I'm so sorry."

He lifted his head to see Voraynil rounding up the soldiers, before looking back down at the bodies. "No more lives will be wasted," he vowed before hurrying to join the survivors.

"Retreat," he panted as he reached them. They looked at him in bewilderment.

"But sir:-" one began.

"Retreat," he interrupted harshly. "Too many lives have been lost, and the Daleks have barely lost any soldiers in return… We retreat. Now. To the city." And he wrenched his radio off his belt before speaking into it. "Is anybody out there? Romana? Balkonefarius?" There was no reply. The Doctor swore as a burst of rage swept through him. "**WHERE ARE YOU**?!" he screamed into the night.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; calming himself before addressing the soldiers again. "It's unlikely that there will be a spare airship that is not currently being used in battle… We'll be on foot to Arcadia." He turned his gaze to the distant city light. "It's a twenty minute walk… But the Daleks will be close behind – so we'll be running. Does anyone feel that they won't be able to make the distance?"

There were a few uneasy looks, but not one soldier stepped forwards.

"Then I suggest we leave. Now," he said. "Voraynil. Lead them – I'll bring up the rear."

Voraynil nodded before starting off at a jog.

"Go," the Doctor gestured at the soldiers to follow him. And when the last man had gone, the Doctor ran on behind. It was barely a minute later before they all heard the Daleks break through the barricade behind them.

The chase was on…


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: And (yay) another update. Quite possibly the last one for a very long while - I'm going to China in a week, for a month (which will give me a lot of writing opportunity - so it'll probably all be on paper by the time i get back (oh joy - i _love_ typing things up...)). But anyway, I hope you enjoy it.**

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The Doctor knew that the darkness was their only protection, and that they were practically invisible in the pitch black of night. But it would only take a matter of minutes before the Daleks realised what had happened, and continued their way to Arcadia.

Thankfully though, the soldiers understood their current advantage, and were making as little sound as possible. Maybe, the Doctor thought, just maybe, they would survive this deadly race.

He put on a burst of speed to overtake those jogging in front, until he caught up with Voraynil.

"The TARDIS-fields. Go through the TARDIS-fields," he panted. "It's the quickest way."

Voraynil nodded; not wanting to waste energy on words.

The Doctor pointed somewhere slightly left of where they were running. "They're over the hill. Lead them." He jerked his head back to the soldiers following, before slowing down to bring up the rear once again.

They soon reached the hill, and, much to the horror of the group, began to hastily scramble up it. They were nearing Arcadia though – it was only a short journey after the hill through the fields. Five minutes at most.

The Doctor almost ran into the back of the soldier in front. The group had come to a complete stop.

_What the hell?_

They'd just got to the top of the hill – they couldn't stop _now_!

"We can't rest here. We need to keep moving," he said. But no one was listening. Their gazes were fixed in front of them – a look of shock on all their faces.

What was going on?

He pushed through the crowd; shoving them all out of the way to see what they were looking at. They all moved out of his way, unresisting, until…

_Oh_.

He was standing at the top of the hill, surveying the scene below him.

The TARDIS-fields had been destroyed.

They'd been set alight, but the fire had long-since died – along with all the TARDIS seedlings.

His eyes brimmed with tears.

"No," he whispered. "Please no…"

So much love had gone into their creation… And it had all been destroyed.

But none of them got a chance to mourn the loss, before a blinding white flash lit the area.

The Doctor immediately realised what had happened – the Daleks had used some sort of flare… And now they were all in plain sight.

"Life-forms detected!" the Dalek's screech came echoing over the grass. "Destroy them all!"

"We need to go. **Now**!" the Doctor yelled to the unresponsive soldiers – their eyes still locked on the dead remains of the young TARDISes.

"_**Move!**_" he screamed, shoving the soldiers nearest to him down the hill.

They snapped to their senses and began racing down, silent, save for heavy breathing – words were not enough to express their anguish.

The light of the flare was fading now, but the damage had been done – the Daleks were coming.

They hurtled through the fields, clambering over blackened wood, and leaping over charred plant life. The Doctor felts his heart crack at the death that surrounded him, and knew that he would make the Daleks pay for this.

The lights of Arcadia that had seemed so distant before, were getting closer and closed… And yet so were the Daleks – it was only a matter of time before they began firing. And the Doctor knew that if that began, there was no hope for this small group of survivors.

If they could just get to the outer wall…

"Exterminate!" there was a cry behind him, and a short of green light flashed, before it hit a soldier in front. He went down with barely a moan.

"RUN!" the Doctor roared; but the men needed no encouragement.

Before the body had even hit the floor, they were all hurtling full pelt towards the city gates. They were barely a minute away. Maybe they could do this…

Then a thought struck the Doctor. The gates would be closed – locked against the invading Daleks. What if there were no guards there to let them in? They were doomed.

The Doctor rid the thought from his mind – he just wanted to concentrate on getting there.

"Almost there," he panted to whoever could hear him.

By this time, the Daleks were letting loose a whole barrage of deadly beams, and over half were hitting their targets.

"C'mon," the Doctor's muscles screamed as he sped up.

The Daleks were almost upon them.

YES! They were there! His fingers ran over the rough stone; almost caressing it.

"The guards," he gasped – too exhausted to explain.

He heard Voraynil beside him, shouting up, "Open the gates!" his voices desperate as he screamed the words over and over again.

And all the while, the Daleks were getting nearer and nearer. And more bodies were falling, lifeless, to the ground.

There was no reply. The Doctor almost collapsed against the wall in despair. It was over. They were all going to die…

There was a scream of pain as a beam hit the person on his left. Their body collapsed against the Doctor's side; the head tilting so the Doctor could see who it was.

The young girl he'd met earlier – the one who'd organised the building of the barricade.

He hadn't even known her name.

She was too young to die…

Suddenly, there was a groaning sound as the rock beneath his palms began to rumble…

The gate was opening!

Agonisingly slow, the rock began to slide, and, as soon as the gap was wide enough, the soldier began squeezing through in a frenzy.

And meanwhile the air was thick with blasts from weapons of both sides.

"Go, Go, Go!" the Doctor shoved the soldiers through the gap; determined to be the last man through, and not leave anyone behind.

"Voraynil. Quick!" He yelled.

Voraynil gave one last burst of fire from his weapon, before slipping through.

Just before the Doctor slid through, the turned to give the Dalek army one last glance. Quite by coincidence, his eyes sought out that same red Dalek. He ducked his head back just in time to avoid its lethal beam.

"Close the gate!" he bellowed skywards, and a moment later, they began to grind back into place.

The Doctor fell back against the wall; the cool rock soothing his skin as he gasped for breath and as his hearts began to slow down to their normal pace.

"Doctor?" an official-looking pale-skinned humanoid appeared in front.

He lifted his head wearily as the newcomer continued.

"Orders from the top – you must meet the president immediately."

"Romana!" he gasped with relief. "She's alive?!"

The official inclined his head. "Please – we must leave now."

"And what of my men?" the Doctor's gaze swept over the small group of exhausted soldiers – the only survivors of their encounter.

"They will be escorted to the barracks where the rest of the troops are. There they will rest wash and feed until more orders are received."

"Very well. Lead the way."

And so the Doctor was taken to meet the generals that survived.

As they twisted and turned through the winding streets, the Doctor was overcome by a strong sense of nostalgia. This was where he'd been born; where he'd been raised. Why, it was just down that street where he'd spent most of his childhood.

"Excuse me?"

The official stopped and turned; raising a questioning eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, but there's just something I need to do. Just quickly. Please…"

"But the President insisted…"

"I'll barely be five minutes… I won't tell if you don't."

The official gave a resigned sight and nodded.

"Thanks," he beamed. "Wait here." And with that, he bounded down a side-street.

Barely ten seconds later, he found it.

His house.

He stood outside the front door, running his fingers up and down the wood.

So many memories…

So much happiness; sadness; anger; fear; excitement; love; hate.

He was so old now. He'd lived through so much – nine hundred years of pain; of joy; of tears; of laughter. And this was where it had all begun.

Of course, another family would've moved in since those naïve days. His father had long-since died, and he'd never been allowed to see his mother – much to his father's anguish. It all boiled down to the simple fact that she'd been human – and the high council disapproved of any Gallifreyan relationship with humans.

But his father had shown him a picture of her. And when he'd been sad as a small boy, the Doctor would take the picture and curl up on his bed; his body wrapped tightly around its frame as his tears soaked the pillow. He could just about imagine her there by his shoulder, smiling that beautiful smile of hers and telling him everything would always be alright.

He pushed open the door…

It gave a small groan as it swung open; the moonlight from above lighting its interior.

The house was deserted – the family had probably been evacuated long before. They were one of the lucky ones, the Doctor knew – not all of Arcadia had been able to be flown to safety – there just hadn't been enough time.

The Doctor moved cautiously across the floor – all too aware that this was someone else's house now.

But… he just wanted to see it… See the room from his childhood.

He made his way to a door in the corner. Be brushed his fingers against the handle – remembering – before slowly twisting the handle and pushing it open.

His room…

It hadn't changed much – of course, all his furniture was no longer there. But it hadn't been replaced either – this family obviously had no need for _this_ room. The Doctor felt both sad and oddly pleased about that for reasons he couldn't quite fathom.

He crept over to the back wall, wondering if it was still there…

And there it was – he could just make it out through the gloomy light.

Small shaky Gallifreyan words.

He traced the jerky circles, and his memories overtook him.

There he was; a tiny boy with short brown hair and bright blue eyes. Alone in the house.

_**Flash!**_

A knock at the door; and his small ears perk up as a smile lights up his face – his father is home. His daddy!

_**Flash!**_

He opens the door… Not his Daddy.

Two men. Sombre.

No smiles.

_**Flash!**_

"I'm sorry…"

"There was an accident…"

The words echo around the small boy's head, barely making sense.

Daddy's gone. Daddy's gone forever.

_**Flash!**_

"You need to come with us."

A kind hand on his shoulder.

Tears and screams and bites and kicks and refusal.

_**Flash!**_

The men have gone. Now there's a nice woman cooking something for him.

"Just one night little one – then you must leave."

One more night at his home.

_**Flash!**_

The boy is numb – but that doesn't stop the steady flow of salty tears.

He is alone now. Forever.

"You are not my Mummy."

And he slams his door shut.

_**Flash!**_

He lies on his bed, too exhausted to do anything but cry.

Can you be too tired to breathe?

He rolls onto his side.

He wants to remember this day forever – the day he didn't belong to anyone anymore.

_**Flash!**_

He takes his Daddy's special knife – the one he'd given to him on his birthday – and begins to etch into the stone of his wall.

He carves a simple message into the stone, and into his mind; his shaky nine-year-old hand making the symbols almost illegible.

But he doesn't need to read them to know what they say:

"I love you Mummy and Daddy."

And he drops the knife to the floor, curling up on his side.

He doesn't get any sleep that night…

The Doctor jerked back into reality, realising the tears pouring down his cheeks. He roughly brushed them away, taking a deep shuddering breath to calm himself.

"Enough," he breathed before hurrying from his room and out the house.

The cool night air soothed him somewhat, but the image of his child-self writing into the eternal stone, tears silently streaming down his face, never left his mind.

He slowly made his way back through the small twisting streets and alleys until he found his guide once more.

"Thank you," the Doctor said softly before giving a false smile. "Shall we continue?"

A quick nod of the head and they were off again.

* * *

**A/N: Like I said - I love reviews :D**


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